Saturday, April 15, 2017
On Thursday I graded a whole mess of papers. It was the last batch until Finals Week. That means from now until May 12th I won't have any papers to grade, which means I can return my attention to creative projects.
But I didn't get any writing done yesterday (Friday). Part of that is because we spent much of the day packing for the weekend. Then in the late afternoon we drove out to Palm Desert. That's right, I'm at COACHELLA! (But we're not hear for a concert, we're visiting the Grandparents.) But the other reason I didn't jump back into writing is that I wanted to take a moment to reflect on where I am going as a writer.
Sometimes I feel like I am just throwing random stuff on the wall to see if it sticks. And sometimes I feel like my goals are very focused (such as the year I spent writing Duck Town).
Sometimes my goal as a writer is simply to make people laugh. Then, there are projects that are very personal -- and these are the ones I write without the expectation of the work ever making it to publication.
But sometimes I become overwhelmed with a thirst for success... I want so badly to impress publishers and editors that the my creativity dries up, and the only words that come tell stories that are trite and cliche -- I become too eager to please.
Whenever I go down this path, I eventually realize that it doesn't lead to anything of artistic value (or monetary value for that matter -- I'm not talented enough to be a sell-out).
When we were driving to the desert, we took a detour to avoid a patch of traffic. Whenever we do this, our GPS device starts to say, in her patient robotic voice, "Recalculating Route." How many times, as a writer, have I said this to myself?